Page 16 of Blinded
GT chuckled. “It was worth a try.” He turned serious again. “I’m serious about the practice and the connection. How about Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday night from sixish to about …” he halted. “What time do you go to bed?”
About ten-thirty on a weekday. Weekends vary.” She looked at the ceiling, going over her weekend routine. “No earlier than twelve, no later than three.”
GT looked her straight in the eye. “Let’s say from about six until half an hour before you retire? Ten on Wednesdays and about one on the weekends?”
“We start at 6:30 and only go to midnight on the weekends and it’s a deal. I have at least one conflict in a couple of months.” Sandra held out her hand, and GT snatched it up like a drowning man reaching for a lifeline. He shocked her speechless as he lifted the hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles instead of giving a simple handshake. That was the moment Sandra realized she might be in trouble.
Sandra was still unsettled the next day at dinner with her parents.
“Did you know Elise is getting married next month?” Her mother’s question caught Sandra off guard. She wasn’t interested in weddings in general or her old rival’s big day in particular.
Gisela wasn’t perturbed in the least by Sandra’s lack of response. “Really, Sandra, you should worry about finding a suitable husband before all the good ones are snatched up.”
Sandra rolled her eyes.
“Honey, our daughter is young and beautiful. She’ll find a man, and she has plenty of time,” her father interjected.
“Time?” Gisela didn’t yell, didn’t show emotion, but still she managed to put so much disdain in the word it was clear she didn’t agree with her husband. “When a woman is past thirty fertility begins to decline and between thirty-five and thirty-seven, it drops quickly.” It seemed like her mother had been doing some internet research. Gisela wasn’t finished.
“Fertility naturally declines as you get older, which could make it harder for you to conceive. And starting a family later in life could pose greater risks for pregnancy complications.” It all sounded like Gisela was quoting some magazine article.
“Where did you get this wisdom?” Sandra did her best not to sound sarcastic.
“It’s from ‘Healthline.’” Gisela held her head high.
Sandra shook her head. “It doesn’t change the fact I’m not interested in getting married or becoming a mother.”
A sharp intake of breath and the white-knuckled grip on her cutlery was all the indication Gisela gave, but it was clear to Sandra she was boiling mad. Her mother was probably disappointed she couldn’t arrange her marriage in this day and age.
Her father interjected, “Although I don’t agree with your mother that you’re running out of time, I don’t get why the thought of marriage and having children is so upsetting to you, Sandra.” Because every time I see you two I dread being held hostage by a partner and the expectations of society. “You weren’t always against marriage, darling.” Her father studied Sandra over the table.
“Don’t get me started on David, dad.” Two years ago, Sandra gave in to the pressure, and got engaged to David Cummings Sloan – a rising star at her father’s bank. Pressured by her mother, Sandra accepted his ring only to discover he was using her to get a promotion at the bank. She broke the engagement and never looked back.
Before her Dad could respond, her mother addressed her husband, “I don’t know how you expect her to behave like a lady when she keeps doing a job where she’s touching strangers and spends her free time with a common girl like Ruby. I don’t approve of how that girl behaves or dresses, and don’t get me started on her piercings and tattoos.”
Sandra’s eyes shot daggers at her mother. Deliberately she picked up her napkin from her lap, folded it and placed it beside her plate. Sandra rose from the table without a word and walked out of the dining room. Fuming with anger, she paced the hallway. Sandra often considered cutting her mother out of her life, but her ‘good daughter’ complex kept her from it. The door behind her opened and closed and she took in a deep breath. Green Irish Tweed! Count on her father to try to smooth things over. She couldn’t walk away from her mother, because it meant she’d lose her dad as well.
5:35 pm How about I bring Chinese take-out tonight?
Sandra looked at the text and couldn’t believe she’d forgotten all about her agreement with GT. She had been extremely busy with patients the last couple of days, and she was still off kilter from the scene with her mother. She returned to the dining room and finished dinner after her father’s intervention. She even stayed for coffee. Her mother chose less loaded, although infinitely boring topics of conversation, but the damage was done. Gisela had once again reminded Sandra she was nothing more than a prized mare – only useful to parade around and produce heirs.
5:38 You don’t want to meet in a restaurant?
The chat app indicated ‘is typing,’ switched to ‘online’ and back to ‘is typing’ again.
5:40 No. Our meeting should be in private. But you should make a safe call.”
Sandra groaned and rested her forehead on the kitchen bar. A slow night with an eBook, some ice cream, and a hot bath evaporated from her mind, replaced by an evening in the company of Dr. GT ‘arrogant’ Lewis. Remind me again why I agreed to this? Oh yes, the lure of the rope.
She lifted her head and dialed Ruby’s number. After some chitchat and making an appointment to meet for dinner on Friday before going to the club together, Sandra broached the subject. “I was actually calling you to tell you I’m having a visitor over tonight.”
“Oh?”
“Umm, yeah.” Sandra wondered how little she could get away with explaining to her friend. Eventually, she ended up telling her the entire story interrupted only by the occasional hum or ‘go on’ from Ruby.
“Oh my god, that’s hilarious, when you think about it!” Ruby exclaimed when Sandra was finished.
Sandra rubbed her forehead. “I don’t think so.”
